


Chasing Home

by MisterTiberius



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Dark, Angst and Feels, Blood and Injury, Canon-Typical Violence, Dark Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester is Protective of Sam Winchester, Demon Dean Winchester, Fluff and Humor, Hurt Sam Winchester, M/M, No Smut, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Sam Winchester, Polyamory Relationship, Possessive Dean Winchester, Protective Castiel (Supernatural), Protective Dean Winchester, Quote: Sam and Dean Winchester are psychotically irrationally erotically codependent on each other, Sam Winchester Whump
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-23
Updated: 2020-01-09
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:19:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21912055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MisterTiberius/pseuds/MisterTiberius
Summary: The demon was slumped down in the chair, looking weak but triumphant. There was a wicked smile on the thing's lips as Sam stared on in abject horror, half convinced he was in the mist of a nightmare. The blood injections weren't working, the younger Winchester had been at it for days already to no avail. His big brother was lost, smothered under the black smoke that'd made itself at home beneath Dean's skin. Sam had to look away from the restrained beast, swallowing down the bile that tried it's damnedest to push up his esophagus. The world around him faded into white noise, all logical thought crushed under the suffocating weight that Sam was utterly alone.Dean was gone.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester, Castiel/Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester
Comments: 12
Kudos: 75





	1. Choices

Sam ignored the sound of heavy chains dragging against concrete, focusing instead on the article displayed on his laptop. The younger Winchester had finally been allowed to remove the restrictive sling from his arm, which was helpful seeing as he was about to attempt something that brought 'stupid' to a whole new level. It didn't help that Cas had made it his personal duty to hover around the bunker either, keeping a keen eye on Dean in case the demon tried anything.

The warded iron door to Dean's 'room' groaned as it was pushed open, the squeak of the hinges prompted the younger Winchester to tear his eyes away from the bright screen. He wasn't surprised to see the angel of the lord himself march in like he had a particularly disagreeable stick lodged up his ass, Cas looked about as happy as a drenched cat. Sam already had a pretty good idea about what exactly had ruffled the angel's feathers so badly, his thoughts confirmed when Cas' lips parted.

"You cannot allow him to leave the bunker." Sam ran a hand down his face, palm scratching over light stubble that he had yet to shave off. He was honestly curious as to just _how_ the angel had found out about his field-trip plans with Dean, he'd been meticulous about covering his tracks. But that was something to ask later, after he'd convinced Cas to see his side of things. It was getting difficult for them to see eye-to-eye as of late, especially when it came to Dean.

"I'll be watching him, plus we've got those bracelets we can use to keep him in line-"

"I won't allow this." Cas cut in, his tone ice. Sam managed to repress a sarcastic roll of his eyes, Cas of all people should know that he wouldn't be doing this if there were another option. The younger Winchester stiffened when he heard a low throaty chuckle from directly behind where he'd sat for the past five hours, cold breaths puffing against the nape of his neck. Sam hadn't even heard Dean sneak up, the demon was becoming better at getting the drop on him. Thankfully, Dean was forced to pull his arms taunt just to get this close, not to mention the two brothers still had four inches of open air separating them.

"You said it yourself Cas, the world needs the Winchesters. I can't stay down here with him, and I can't risk leaving him here by himself. You can't be in two places at once, you have to trust me on this. It'll be safer to just bring him with me, force him to help." Sam turned his head a bit to level Dean's crooked grin with an unimpressed look, which only made the elder Winchester's unsettling smile stretch wider. Sam frowned when his shoulders involuntarily jumped at the bold show of pearly white teeth, more then a little surprised when Dean actually backed off a bit.

"If I cannot stop you, then I am coming with you." Cas' statement pulled the younger Winchester's attention back to him, but the angel was preoccupied with squinting distrustfully at the demon that hovered just over Sam's shoulder. It was clear that the only way that Cas wouldn't fight him on this was to let him tag along, Sam figured he could use the back-up seeing as Dean would probably resist the idea of doing anything considered 'good.' So Sam conceded with a heavy sigh and a small nod of his head to show he agreed to Cas' terms, the angel relaxing some.

"Can you go get those bracelets for me? We should just get that part over with." Sam cast a wary glance at Dean's shackled hands, they'd have to take one off in order to secure the jewelry to the elder Winchester's wrist. Cas' brow creased, but he nodded curtly and marched out to do what was asked of him. Sam shut his laptop and placed it aside, out of Dean's reach, before pushing to his feet. Dean mirrored the action, the predatory way he moved was intimidating as hell despite the fact that he was almost three inches shorter then Sam.

"So we're taking a road-trip just like old times huh? My baby brother, finally taking charge." The smile Dean gave him was patronizing, Sam didn't bother giving the demon any sort of emotional reaction. The younger Winchester's vision swam so he stepped back and pinched the bridge of his nose, masking his growing exhaustion with the very real frustration that seemed to be dictating his life as of late. The last thing he needed was to tip Dean off on his declining health, god knows what the demon would do with that information.

These days, a full night of sleep was impossible. Sam could barely manage three hours every few nights, and the lack of rest was starting to take it's toll. The younger Winchester reigned in his misery when Cas made his reappearance, carrying a box with every square inch of surface covered in containment sigils. Sam felt trepidation prickle his spine, but it wasn't the first time he'd second-guessed the plan he'd cooked up. He swallowed down the lump of unease threatening to choke him and took the box from Cas with a nod of thanks. 

"Try anything and we'll have to put you back in the chair." Sam warned, stomach churning when all he got in return was a perfectly mastered look of innocence. Angel and Winchester shared a wordless conversation all contained in a single look before Sam squared his shoulders and cautiously approached the demon, pulling the lid off the container and tucking it under the box to keep it out of the way. Sam carefully took the matching pair of bracelets from their case, handing the empty container to Cas' waiting hands. 

Sam lifted one so the gold glinted in the dim ceiling light, the shiny metal was embedded with sparkling diamonds. Just one bracelet was easily worth over a million dollars, but it was a cursed object. It was a bitch to take these off the hands of the narcissistic billionaire who'd foolishly purchased it, Cas ended up having to wipe the man's memories after they'd been caught red-handed. Sam sucked in a deep breath, knowing he couldn't stall any longer, and clipped the first one around his left wrist.

He didn't feel an immediate difference, and he wasn't sure whether he should feel relieved or unsettled by that. But, with more confidence from before, Sam stepped into grabbing distance and cautiously wrapped his fingers around the shackle that secured Dean to the floor. The demon jumped a bit when the two brothers made skin-to-skin contact for the first time in weeks, Sam silently turning Dean's wrist in order to get to the lock. The younger Winchester's free hand tucked under the collar of his shirt to tug a bulky iron key out from around his neck, only allowing himself a heartbeat of hesitance before releasing Dean's arm. 

Sam half-expected him to lash out, but Dean merely clenched his hand into fist repeatedly, his sharp hazel eyes considering the free limb with something akin to bewilderment. Sam let the shackle clatter to the concrete floor, pulling Dean from his daze. Sam was almost thankful when the unnervingly human emotion was swiftly masked by aloof indifference. The younger Winchester pressed his lips into a thin line and grabbed Dean's freed hand, wincing in sympathy when he noticed Dean's wrists had been rubbed raw from hours of confinement in iron chains. They were still sluggishly bleeding, causing Sam's gut to churn. He was oddly thankful that Dean didn't even twitch when the clasp clicked shut, the jewelry snug against his abused skin.

"Is it done?" Cas piped up, shattering the fragile quiet that'd fallen over the trio. Sam shrugged, unlocking Dean's second shackle. "There's only one way to test it." He mumbled, running a hand through his hair with a shaky breath when the second cuff joined the first. Dean was preoccupied with rolling his wrists, poking at the chaffed skin with a frown. Annoyance made Dean's brow crease, as if the irritated flesh were just an inconvenient hindrance. When he caught Sam's conflicted gaze, his lips twitched up in amusement. Dean held Sam's stare as his tongue flicked out to swipe over his wrist, lapping up the blood like some kind of feral animal.

Sam's meager lunch crawled up his throat and his eyes jerked to the side, jaw clenching tightly at the mocking display. He loathed the disgusting part of himself that urged Sam to join in, to guzzle down the rich blood that pumped through his brother's veins. His stomach cramped and whether it was from anticipation or nausea was unclear, that fact alone rattled him to his core. So he retreated back to Cas, limbs stiff with anxiety.

"I need you to make sure I don't pass out." Sam gave the disapproving angel a pleading look, some of the tension in his shoulders releasing when Cas murmured an assurance that Sam couldn't quite catch over the roaring in his ears. The memories of Ruby and the addicting taste of that sweet coppery crimson only proved to solidify his resolve, giving him the extra boost of courage he needed to take the next step. The younger Winchester ignored Dean's curious stare, his fingers pinching the bracelet clasp in a half-hearted attempt to open it. 

A burning sensation erupted from his wrist, racing up his arm to spread through his chest like lava. He was half convinced he'd actually been lit on fire, the staggering pain stealing the breath from his lungs. Seconds or hours later, Sam wasn't sure, his hand was unceremoniously ripped away from bracelet. As soon as his twitching fingers were off the jewelry, the pulsing, red hot agony numbed almost immediately. The younger Winchester blinked away the black dots that peppered his vision, opting to just keep his eyes closed as the world continued to spin around him. His knees wobbled, body listing forward. Warm hands caught his upper arms, keeping him upright and steady.

"What the hell were you thinking Sam?" The younger Winchester blindly shuffled forward at the familiar growl, hunching in on himself to rest his forehead on the soft red flannel covering Dean's shoulder. He focused on breathing through the wave of nausea that threatened to expel the bile that gurgled unhappily in his stomach, lungs expanding with only a twinge of discomfort. Sam was certain that his big brother would watch his back as he recovered, his ears humming with white noise. Sam felt like his brain had been fried, lips twisting into a soft grimace when something wet dribbled from his nose. 

The comforting hands left Sam's shoulders to gently guide his head up, prompting the younger Winchester to give a grunt of protest, Dean made a shushing noise that was like a balm to his frayed nerves. Sam leaned into the palm that cupped his face, Dean's other hand swiping a soft cloth over his mouth to wipe the blood away. The younger Winchester managed to pry an eye open, his gut tying itself into knots when his gaze locked onto twin pools of ink black. Dean had pulled his hand into his sleeve in order to bunch up a wad the flannel in his fist, the fabric stretched over the back of the elder Winchester's hand stained a deeper red from Sam's bloody nose.

"Are you unharmed?" Sam flinched when Cas planted a hand onto Dean's shoulder to force him off to the side, disregarding Dean's furious snarl in favor of crowding into Sam's personal space with a worried frown. The younger Winchester nodded, eyes jumping between Dean's homicidal sneer to Cas. The last thing he needed was for the demon and angel to go at each other, their clash would make a mess of the bunker. Dean took a threatening step toward Cas' turned back, the angel's posture stiffening. Cas whirled on the demon with an icy glare, halting Dean's menacing advance.

"I'm fine. I found a case for us, sounds like a simple salt and burn.We need come up with a game plan before we leave." Sam hastily worked to rectify the tense situation, praying that the two would get the hint. Cas was the first to break the staring contest, crystal blue eyes sliding over to Sam's hopeful expression. After barely a second of consideration, the angel jerked his chin in a small nod to show he'd follow Sam's lead. Shoulders sagging with relief, the younger Winchester hardened his expression and turned to the demon's scowling face next. Dean hissed a curse, his ink black eyes burning with rage. He appeared to struggle with his conflicting emotions, but ultimately, he snarled in defeat.

"Alright, I'll bite. Lead the way Sammy."


	2. There Is No Right Answer

Sam's grip on the wheel was white-knuckle tight, the tension in the car thick enough to cut with a spoon. Dean was in the passenger seat, Cas in the back. Sam wasn't exactly comfortable with the demon being right next to him, but he didn't want Dean to be in the back where choking Sam out was an option either. With this seating arrangement, both Cas and Sam could keep a sharp eye on Dean. Sam reasoned that he was choosing the lesser of two evils.

The radio was playing softly in the background, Sam didn't pay much attention to the low hum. It was more to ward off the awkward silence then to be a distraction, but it was helpful for both problems. Sam's stomach gave a pathetic gurgle for the tenth time within the last few miles, the younger Winchester grit his teeth when Dean shot him an amused glance. Of _course_ the demon could hear his rising hunger, Dean has been fine-tuned to Sam's discomfort for as long as the younger Winchester could remember.

"Feeling a little empty there Sammy?" Dean had no idea just how much truth rang in his careless words. There was a gaping wound in Sam's chest, a black hole that consumed all emotion, leaving him hollow. It ripped open the day he realized there was nothing he could do to help save his big brother, and the pit has been steadily growing ever since. He was useless yet again, but that wasn't anything new. Sam spared Dean a flat look, eyes darting back to the road when the demon's smirk faltered. 

They arrived into town a little over five minutes later, Sam's stomach had gotten to the point where it was making a valiant effort to consume his insides for sustenance. The sharp stab of pain was comforting in a way, and he knew that should be setting off all sorts of alarm bells. They'd driven through the night, so Sam could take his time to eat an actual meal, get a room at the nearest motel, and _then_ get started with the hunt. He pulled into a diner, running a tired hand over his face after he put the car in park and killed the engine. His eyelids were heavy, his bones felt like the'd been replaced with lead. He sluggishly blinked when the driver's door opened, squinting up at a frowning Cas.

"Sam, you are not well." The younger Winchester smothered the sudden and compelling urge to scoff, Cas had every right to be worried. Sam was wasting away, and he didn't know if he even wanted to put in the effort to stick around. Not with Dean gone. His chest ached every time he thought of his brother, pictured him in his mind. The memories were like lacerations to his very soul, heavy with the weight of his monstrous destiny. He could picture Dean's fond smile, the one that made the lines at the corner of his eyes crinkle, with vivid clarity. His lively hazel eyes that were a beautiful green the majority of the time, his boisterous laugh. His breath-stealing hugs that made Sam feel untouchable, the crushing embraces that told him everything his brother could never bring himself to say aloud.

Everything good about Dean had been erased. 

All of the previous brotherly love was replaced with snide remarks, harsh hands, and the cruel curl of lips that showed too many teeth to be anything but threatening. Sam sighed, allowing a small, but genuine smile slide onto his face to reassure Cas he was fine for now. The angel looked unconvinced but dropped the subject of Sam's well-being for the moment, following the younger Winchester into the quaint diner. They got a window seat, Cas slid in next to Dean, caging him on the inside of the booth. Sam hesitated, frowning at the tense duo, neither looked very pleased with their close proximity to the other.

"Watch him for a minute." Sam ignored how the world spun around him, running a hand through his hair to help him focus on something else. Cas peered up at him, brow creased when he nodded. The younger Winchester's shoulders slumped in wordless thanks before he made his way toward the bathroom, passing by the lone waitress in the establishment. He pushed in and made a beeline to the sink, bracing his hands on the porcelain bowl. The edges of his vision was blurry and everything appeared to be shaking, or was that just him? Sam twisted the knob for cold water with trembling fingers, cupping his hands under the stream to splash his fevered face.

He gave himself a generous moment to regain his bearings, he was starting to regret this whole take-demon-dean-on-a-hunt thing. He wasn't in any shape to go aggravate an angry spirit, he could admit to himself that he may have jumped the gun a bit. He just wanted to do something normal (at least the Winchester version of it), familiar. Hunting had been ingrained in his head since he found out that the monster under his bed was real, he could salt and burn a body in his sleep. But he had an inkling that his weakening stamina wasn't up for the task, he couldn't just call off the hunt though. He'd just have to power through it.

He could crumble later.

Sam straightened, gazing at his haggard refection. He barely recognized himself, he was practically a shell of who he used to be. He was exhausted, tired of trying to do the right thing only for it to spectacularly blow up in his face. He inhaled deeply, holding his breath for a few seconds before slowly emptying his lungs. After a few tries, he got the hang of it and his hands steadied. Knowing that he'd spent more then enough time just anchoring himself, he set his shoulders and exited the soothing solitude of the bathroom.

Sam was more then a little surprised when he gaze lifted from the tiled floor only to see that Dean was staring at him, face a blank slate. He must've been watching the bathroom, but why a demon would do such an uncharacteristic thing was lost to Sam. He didn't have the energy to look into it either, so he filed the strange behavior away to analyze later. He plopped down on the stiff red leather, eyeing the cup of perspiring water that'd been deposited on the table. It obviously wasn't for Cas because he didn't need to consume anything to stay alive, Sam was unsure about Dean's needs though. 

The elder Winchester ate whatever Sam gave him, he wasn't nearly as picky as before when it came to meals. But Sam was sure that Dean wouldn't order a water of all things, his theory proven correct when the waitress came back with a tall glass of beer. The demon took the offered beverage with a sultry grin, Sam turned his attention to the window as Dean started up his usual antics. At least one thing about his brother hadn't changed, if Sam thought his brother was a sex fiend before, Dean was sure to get a whole lot worse now that his morals were in the negatives.

"Let me fetch your orders sugar." The waitress left with a parting wink that had Sam's insides preforming some impressive acrobatics, the bracelet allowed a mile distance before the curse kicked in. He'd rather not have Dean leaving his sight to hook up with a waitress, not when Sam didn't know all the rules that accompanied the jewelry that shackled them together. Cas seemed to be on the same page because he gave Dean a stern glare that clearly said that whatever Dean had in his head _wasn't happening_. The demon's upper lip curled back into a sneer, his hazel eyes swallowed up by a bottomless abyss in the time it took Sam to blink.

"Dean." Sam was surprised by how waspish his own tone was, making his brother's name into a warning. The demon's gaze flicked to him and the black was gone in the next second with a sound akin to an insect's wings, but the scowl marring Dean's features stayed. Sam was more then a little baffled when Dean flat-out ignored the waitress when she returned with a chicken caesar salad and the greasiest bacon cheeseburger Sam had ever seen with a side of crinkle fries. She was obviously taken aback by the abrupt change in attitude, accusing baby blue eyes jumping between Sam and Cas.

"Thanks." Sam's lips quirked up when she placed his salad down with more force then strictly necessary, she made eye-contact with him and held it for a heartbeat before shrugging. The younger Winchester pressed his lips into a thin line to fight a frown, averting his eyes to pluck up his fork and start pushing and poking at his salad. He tuned in one ear to Dean as the waitress tried to get him to engage again, but he just wasn't having it. She tersely asked if they needed anything else, to which Cas murmured a negative, before she stalked away. Sam braved a peek at his brother, puzzled as to why he didn't continue on with their little flirting game. 

Thankfully, Dean wasn't looking his way, preoccupied with watching the swinging door that the waitress had disappeared behind. The elder Winchester's features appeared more harsh, brows dipped low in a dark glare, lips twisted as if he just took a gulp of one of the healthy smoothies Sam used to blend up for breakfast. Sam glanced at Cas, who was observing him with a curious tilt of his head. The younger Winchester raised his brow, using his fork to spear a chunk of chicken and a few sauce-covered leaves to chew on.

The vexed waitress came over a few times to fill up their glasses, Dean having guzzled down five beers before Sam lost count. Sam had kept his brother's alcohol consumption to a minimum when he was imprisoned, allowing some whiskey everyday lest Dean thrown the demon equivalent of a tantrum. The elder Winchester was dangerous, chained up or not. He'd almost strangled Sam to death twice already, and gave him more then a fair share of bruises. Dean's fuse was even shorter then before, his suffocating hostile aura rolling off him in waves. Sam noticed how the six or seven other people in the diner shifted uneasily, subtly peering around to search for the source of their unease.

Sam gulped down the remainder of his third cup of water, he hadn't even realized how thirsty he was until he'd taken that first sip. Dean was alternating between scoping out his surroundings for anything suspicious, and chowing down on his heart-attack between two buns like a starving man. It seemed Dad's years of training remained intact, which just made Dean all the more deadly. Sam really hoped the bracelets would help him contain his brother's insatiable blood-lust. He found himself grateful that Cas had insisted on tagging along, Sam didn't think he had it in himself to do this without help.

"Here's the check." Sam jumped when the waitress popped up next to their table, swallowing his next bite wrong. His eyes burned with involuntary tears, the tendons in his neck straining as he hacked up what sounded like a lung. The waitress looked just a bit guilty for startling him, more surprised and worried then anything. It wasn't an everyday thing to witness someone choke to death, but Sam was coughing so he'd be fine. Sam turned away, lightheaded. He curled a fist in front of his mouth as he hunched in on himself in misery, twitching when a warm hand pressed onto his hitching back. He knew it was Dean without even looking.

"Easy there Sammy, I got you." Sam couldn't care less if his brother was a demon at the moment, seeking comfort by pushing back into those familiar calloused fingers that radiated warmth. Sam's fit tapered off after a few minutes, taking the half-full glass of water Cas slid across the table. It soothed his aching throat, the cold liquid sharpened his senses and brought him back to reality. Dean was crowded against his back, as if shielding him from the prying eyes of the other patrons. Cas had his hands braced on the table, leaning forward to watch Sam with an intensity had had him flushing in embarrassment. Leave it to him to cause a scene, all because a waitress snuck up on him no less.

He was too tired for this.


	3. The Devil Is In The Details

Sam tossed his duffel onto the bed furthest from the door on instinct, stiffening when he realized his mistake. He plucked up his bag and turned to rectify the situation only to freeze like a deer in headlights with the sight he was met with; Dean had already made himself comfortable on the second mattress. His brother had been less then pleased when he realized Sam wouldn't be giving him a weapon to stash under his pillow, the resulting argument was a heated one. Dean continuously raging about Sam's safety, as if the demon actually cared or something. The back-and-forth ranting lasted the entire ride to the motel before Sam snapped and threatened to leave Dean out of the hunt, shutting him up pretty quickly.

"Cas, keep an eye on him yeah?" The angel turned away from the window, cool blue eyes flicking to Dean. Sam knew Cas would watch the demon even if the younger Winchester left without so much as a warning, but Sam was sure the angel appreciated the heads-up. Cas shifted his attention back to the glass, keeping a look-out for any trouble. Sam snatched up a change of clothes and made his way to the bathroom. Sam had done extensive research, so they already knew who the spirit was and where they were buried. All they had to do was salt and burn the corpse, it was an easy hunt. A test for Dean, to see what he would do.

Sam didn't bother locking the door behind him, knowing either could force their way in. The younger Winchester would rather avoid any damages for the duration of their short stay, but he knew, with Dean's temper, that at least _one_ thing was going to be broken thanks to the demon's wrath. Sam could only pray that he and Cas were left out of the cross-hairs, if not, avoid being the target of his rage altogether. It was like walking on eggshells, every time Sam opened his mouth around his brother, he expected Dean's fist to be introduced to his face.

Stripping down to his birthday suit, Sam fiddled with the chilled metallic knobs until he got the desired temperature. The water pressure was nice, for a motel that is. Not nearly as good as the bunker, but it most definitely wasn't the most uncomfortable shower he'd taken. The soap had a mild flowery scent, the shampoo and conditioner much the same. The younger Winchester was more then used to his brother's jabs about his masculinity, between Sam's hair and his healthier food choices, Dean had quite the arsenal at his disposal. But, if there was anything Sam was good at, it was tuning his bully of a sibling out.

"Sam, Dean insists that he must use the bathroom." The younger Winchester jumped, pulling the white curtain aside to poke his head out. Cas was hovering in the center of the bathroom, looking quite unsure of how to proceed. The door was wide open, Dean casually leaning against the frame with a wicked grin. Sam sighed in exasperation, smoothing his wet locks back. Cas clearly didn't approve of leaving the two of them alone, which Sam understood. The younger Winchester was wary of the same, all it would take was a snarky comment from Dean, or a cold insult from Cas, and Sam was almost positive that a fight would break out.

"Just let him Cas, I'll be fine. He drank like...nine beers." Dean's posture straightened, the nasty smirk on his lips was what Sam was coming to understand as the demon's resting face. Cas nodded, brows dipped low. His expression was protesting even though the angel didn't breathe a word of complaint, it was like he said one thing but his body language screamed another. But that was Cas for you, he was an enigma. An angel unlike any other that he'd laid eyes on, more human with each step he took on Earth's blood-soaked soil.

"I'll be right outside, call for me if necessary." Cas' face was gravely serious, leaving no doubt in the younger Winchester's mind that the angel would smite Dean where he stood should he harm Sam, brother or not. Sometimes Sam found himself wary of Cas' protective streak, this was one of those occasional incidents. Cas was a beast when it came to the Winchester's safety, a force to be reckoned with. Hell have mercy on anyone who voiced a threat against the brothers, because their resident warrior angel certainly wouldn't.

"I will." Sam assured, sliding the curtain closed and turning back to the shower-head to turn up the heat. He heard the door click shut, bare feet padding over to the toilet. He tuned out the sound of his brother relieving himself, a skill he perfected with the help of years of living in close quarters with the other man. Sam massaged the shampoo into his mane, eyes closed and head tipped back. He always felt better while in the shower, the borderline scorching water was a temporary cure for the defeat that clung to his bones.

The younger Winchester kept track of where Dean moved, listening to him flick on the tap and scrub his hands. Sam was finally able to release the breath he'd been holding when the bathroom door open and shut, announcing the demon's swift exit. He stayed under the spray for an extra minute or two longer, his skin turning pink from the heat. He switched off the water and pulled the thin curtain back, startling when his wide gaze came to a screeching halt on Cas. The angel's eyes were firmly fixed on Sam's baffled face, a fluffy towel in hand.

"Uh...Cas?" Sam blinked, his cheeks heating. Cas didn't seem to mind his nudity, merely offering the white fabric to the dripping hunter. He took it, more then a little taken off-guard. Cas wasn't one to fetch things, and he'd said as such before. But here the angel was, doing something as mundane as giving Sam a towel. The younger Winchester wasn't sure how to feel about it, but it was nice to know that Cas was thinking about him.

"When I escorted Dean here, I noticed you didn't have one." Was Cas' perfectly logical answer, Sam must've stepped out before the angel could put it with the rest of his clothes and leave. The stiff set to his shoulder's eased, smiling fondly at Cas as he took the towel with a soft murmur of thanks. The angel straitened, his chin jerking in a firm nod before he marched out in order to position himself in front of the motel window once again. Sam shook his head with a snort, shutting the bathroom door to give himself privacy to dress. He'd picked out clothes that he wouldn't feel too torn up about if the throw-down with the ghost damaged them to the point where they couldn't be salvaged.

"Okay, we'll head out once the sun goes down." Sam flopped down face-first onto the unoccupied bed, his eyes struggling to stay open the second his head hit the pillow. He found he didn't even have the energy to climb under the covers, his body content to turn off without any additional effort. His limbs refused to obey any instruction, the best he could do at the moment was twitch a finger. Sam's lids fluttered shut, fading in and out of consciousness as his brain warred with his battered body. He rationalized that Cas could handle Dean if the demon were to try anything, and that the resulting commotion from the angel's interference was sure to wake Sam up.

"Taking a little nap Sammy? Are you sure you'll wake up if you do?" The thinly veiled threat had Sam's pulse pounding in his ears, the younger Winchester garbled something along the lines of Cas being more then willing to erase Dean's existence if the demon killed Sam in his sleep. The resulting silence made it pretty clear that he'd gotten his point across, but the sudden dark shadow that blotted out the glow of the light had him quickly thinking otherwise. He hummed questioningly, hoping it was Cas who was leaning into his personal bubble.

"Damn Sammy, how long has it been since you've last slept?" Sam muttered what he thought to be a sound answer, his brows creasing at the sound of his own illegible speech. His tongue wasn't cooperating; slow to form the words, only managing to slur the syllables together. He heard a soft growl, the sound sending ice down his back. He was too tired to disguise the resulting shiver; but, to his utter surprise, Dean didn't comment on the involuntary action. He grumbled incomprehensible protests when a hand slipped under his knees, another across his back. He was lifted off the mattress, the soft sound of shifting fabric prompting him to peel his heavy lids open.

Dean effortlessly held him, not one wrinkle of strain on his brow. Further proof that his brother had been replaced, the constant reminder his own personal hell. It was the little things that set the demon apart from the big brother he knew and loved. He was temporarily distracted from his pity party when Cas abruptly pulled the covers of the bed down, the demon placing him back onto the mattress. The angel proceeded to situate the blankets over the younger Winchester's limp form, even going as far as tucking him in. The fussing was as amusing as it was worrying, Sam himself wasn't even certain of how long he'd gone without a proper night's rest. 

Rest was impossible between the nightmares and the constant fear that Dean would somehow escape to finish what'd he'd started before Cas popped in to save the younger Winchester's skull from the demon's hammer. That particular incident had been added to Sam's list of horrible things that would haunt him to his grave; and possibly even past that, considering where he was bound to wind up. The vividly clear memory of his brother's pitch black eyes, projecting his intent to end Sam's life for the fun of it. He'd been hunted like prey, and the younger Winchester didn't even have the guts to defend himself against his brother's assault.

He would've let Dean kill him.

"We'll wake you when it's time to go." Sam let his eyes close, his brother's reassuring words lulling him into a trace-like state. He could hear Dean's low whispers as he conversed with Cas, but what they were saying wasn't quite registering. His brain was on the verge of a complete shut-down, which would actually do him some serious good at this point. As long as he didn't dream, oh please god don't let him dream. His mind was his own worst enemy, playing all his failures out on repeat. Making the situation escalate, or just tweaking a few vital details. Either way, he always awoke with flailing limbs and his brother's name stuck in his throat.

After that he'd usually just stay up, and soon his refusal to sleep turned into only two to five hours of sleep every few days. Sam's face pushed deeper into the lumpy pillow, the action was ridiculous and juvenile, but it made him feel better. The voices dropped even further in volume, as if the two others in the room had been spooked by his movement. Sam drifted for a bit, rousing every now and then only to have a warm hand card through his hair and soothe him back into the comforting darkness of slumber. Thankfully, nightmares eluded him, allowing for a peaceful sleep. He must've been too exhausted to have an imagination, he was grateful for the break.

"Stay put Sammy, we'll be back before you know it." The younger Winchester jolted into awareness, his eyes half-mast with overwhelming drowsiness. There were two figures lingering in the open motel door, the that moonlight streamed in enhanced their ethereal features. They looked like the very definition of Demon and Angel, one silhouette was shrouded in the ink of the shadows that the figure bathed in light cast behind him. He could've sworn he saw a flash of blue glow within dark pupils, the angel's grace sparking into a roaring fire beneath flesh and bone. The other appeared to be a part of the darkness, to revel in it. He could only see a vague outline, but for some reason Sam could effortlessly pick out the demon's eyes in the darkness. The one doused in light turned, as if feeling his gaze.

"Sleep, Samuel."

He did.

**Author's Note:**

> An alternate take on the Demon Dean season, where the Demon version of Dean is permanent.


End file.
